


The Flue In Summer

by padfootagain



Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 18:49:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16979865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/padfootagain/pseuds/padfootagain
Summary: When you come home sick, Ben is here to make sure that you will soon feel better.





	The Flue In Summer

**Author's Note:**

> So much cuteness! We all need Ben taking care of us when we're sick! Hope you like it!

You were sick. Like near-to-die sick. Your head was throbbing, your nose was a mess, your throat was so painful you had been unable to speak for most of the afternoon. It had started the previous evening with just some tickles down your throat and a few sneezes.

But now you were so weak you thought you were about to die.

Your colleagues said that it was just a cold, but you were sure it was some kind of flu. You couldn’t be _that_ much ill with just a cold.

You searched for your keys in your handbag, your tired eyes crying.

Who could catch the damn flu in August in L.A. ? WHO?

You definitely could.

Charming…

You finally pushed the door and entered your home. You threw your shoes next to the pair of big black ones that rested next to the door, and you sent your keys flying into the bowl on your right where they joined the other key ring. You put your bag down on the ground and hung your coat next to the brown leather jacket that was already hanging there.

You heard a low voice humming merrily, the sound coming from the kitchen.

“I’m home!” you cried.

You walked to the couch and let yourself fall on the soft pillows, deciding that you would never stand up again. You were to spend the rest of your life on this couch.

Heaven…

You let yourself fall down completely, lying down on the sofa, your head spinning slightly. You closed your eyes, hoping it would ease the pain that shattered your skull.

The humming got louder and louder as your boyfriend was finally walking out of the kitchen. You heard him clear his throat at the sight of you lying across the couch.

“Y/N?” his deep voice was probably the only sound you had heard that day that wasn’t aggravating your headache. “What are you doing?”

You sniffed loudly.

“I’m sick,” you replied in a weak voice.

You heard him walking closer to you.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

You forced your eyes to open, and you stared at his chocolate brown eyes.

Ben always had a very cute expression when he was worried about you. He had this little frown that made your heart melt everytime…

“I think I’ve got the flu,” you answered, before coughing hard.

You had to sit up to stop coughing, and you saw his eyes growing wider with worry.

“The flu? In August? Here?” he asked, his eyebrows arching.

You shrugged.

“I don’t reckon a cold can be so terrible. I feel miserable.”

You coughed again, almost choking, and he hurried in the kitchen to fetch you some water.

He sat down next to you on the couch, watching carefully as you drank up the glass of fresh liquid he had brought you. You felt it soothing your aching throat as you drank. You heaved a sigh as you swallowed the last drop of water.

“You do look like shit though,” he said, taking the glass from you.

“Thanks, I guess,” you replied. “Next time, I won’t be so gentle when you’re drunk.”

He rolled his eyes, but there was still worry painted all over his face.

“You want me to call for the doctor. It’s not late yet, we still have time to go there,” he offered.

But you shook your head.

“I’m too tired to go anywhere.”

“One thing is for sure, you don’t go to work tomorrow.”

“Doctor’s orders?” you asked, teasing him, a playful smile on your exhausted face.

“Exactly,” he nodded, smiling back at you.

“It’s nothing, Ben,” you reassured him. “I’ll be healed in a couple of days.”

“But for now you’re sick as hell.”

“No need to remind me.”

You massaged your temples, trying to ease the pain that pierced your skull.

“Wait, I think we have something against headache,” he said.

Less than a minute later, he was bringing you a new glass of water and some aspirin, and he found back his place next to you on the couch.

He rested his hand on your forehead, and you saw him frown again.

“You have fever,” he said.

“I’ll be just fine.”

“What about some soup? And we watch something very stupid on the TV that will require zero concentration from you? You can even use me as a human pillow, if you’d like.”

You laughed softly, stroking his arm tenderly.

“Sounds great,” you breathed. “Thanks.”

You exchanged a smile, and he made a movement to drop a kiss on your forehead, but you backed away.

“You can’t kiss me tonight,” you stated.

He raised an eyebrow.

“Why not? I didn’t know you didn’t like kisses. I actually thought that you _loved_ kisses.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile betrayed you.

“You have an audition tomorrow,” you replied. “You can’t get sick now.”

He smiled tenderly at you, stroking softly your cheek.

“First of all, you are much more important than one of my auditions. And second… I don’t reckon I’m going to resist my urge to kiss you for an entire evening. Especially when you look so miserable.”

You laughed.

“Thanks for reminding me how sexy I must look like right now,” you replied, trying to sound sarcastic but you were laughing too much and the gaze you set upon him was too soft.

“If you like girls who have a deeper voice than your own and look like they haven’t slept for a week, then you’re a supermodel.”

“Shut up!” you laughed, softly punching his shoulder.

He laughed at you, before leaning to kiss your brow, and you didn’t push him away this time. Instead, you let out a content sigh at the feeling of his smooth lips upon your skin.

“I’m just kidding, you know?” he said, holding you against him, his lips still resting against your forehead. “You’re always beautiful, Y/N.”

“Even when I look like a zombie?”

He chuckled, and you soon joined him.

“You’re a sexy zombie,” he joked.

“And you’re a very sexy nurse, you know?”

You felt him grinning proudly against your skin.

“Am I now?”

You nodded, and he moved his lips to your closed eyelids, making you gasp.

“So… A soup and lots of cuddling?” he proposed, looking into your eyes again.

You lost yourself in his dark stare.

“Sounds wonderful. Thank you.”

He winked, before standing up and heading for the kitchen, turning the TV on for you before exiting the room.

You spent the rest of the evening drinking a warm soup and cuddling in Ben’s arms while he played with your hair, as you watched shitty TV together, buried under the blankets he had brought for you.

But soon, you were dozing against his chest, and he dropped a soft kiss on your hair.

“Y/N?” he whispered.

“Hmmm…” you replied, nodding, signaling him that you weren’t asleep yet.

“We should go to bed, love,” he said, turning off the TV.

You moaned.

“Give me a minute,” you mumbled. “I don’t want to stand…”

He pushed a lock of your hair away from your tired face. He stared down at you as you were slowly relaxing, sleep drowning your body in peace.

“Put you arms around my neck,” he said softly.

“What?”

“Do it.”

You complied, holding on his neck, and you felt him slowly standing, slipping his strong hands under your body, before carrying you bridal style. You smiled, resting your head against him again, your eyes still closed, as he walked towards the bedroom you both shared.

“You’re the best boyfriend in the world, you know that?” you whispered.

You heard him chuckling as he gently put you down on the bed, tugging you in the warm covers.

“Just trying to be, angel,” he replied, before kissing your lips.

You grinned.

“Come,” you breathed, holding his shirt and pulling him down to you. “Come to bed.”

“What about all the mess you left behind you in the living room?”

“We’ll clean up everything tomorrow morning. Please, Ben. Lie down with me.”

He nodded.

“Alright.”

You felt him slip under the covers next to you, and you instantly cuddled against him. He held you close, kissing your lips again.

“You’re going to be sick,” you protested.

But he cupped your cheek and his next kiss was so full of love, you just couldn’t resist him.

You never could resist him anyway…

“As if I could care…” he mumbled against your mouth.

You let him kiss you one more time, before resting your head on his chest.

“Good night, Ben,” you whispered.

“‘Night Y/N.”

The regular rise and fall of his breathing acted on you like a lullaby, and a few minutes later, you were fast asleep.

And when Ben came back from his audition the next day, he was sneezing like mad.


End file.
